


At the Edge

by LadyBrooke



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bondage, Dom/sub, Knifeplay, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Spanking, pre-Flight of the Noldor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 06:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21240005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBrooke/pseuds/LadyBrooke
Summary: Finrod's love of danger leads him into dangerous situations.Luckily, Fëanor is there to take him in hand before this ends with someone dead or seriously injured.





	At the Edge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moiety](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moiety/gifts).

> For moiety, who prompted the fic in discord one day by talking about giving a kingdom for Fëanor teaching Finrod to ride and then has put up with more than a week of me trying to get these two written. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone else in discord as well for listening to me struggle with this fic, the wip sequels and just these two in general. I appreciate it!

Fëanor looked over his desk at his nephew. 

Finrod squirmed in the seat. "Really, Uncle, it wasn't that bad."

"Not that bad?" Fëanor raised an eyebrow. "I dismissed it as youthful indiscretion when I found you on your knees sucking Turukáno's cock in the middle of the palace garden. An exhibitionist kink when I found you with Findékano while Maitimo watched. The typical belief of the young that they are invincible when you let Makalaurë and Carnistir forge a cock ring and leave it on you for hours, until it failed and Curufinwë had to cut it off - yes, I know about that, they used my forge."

Finrod's face grew red as his Uncle continued. "We really don't need to discuss this."

Fëanor's lips tightened. "Please allow me to finish."

"Yes, Uncle." Finrod looked down at the ground until Fëanor reached across the desk, grasping Finrod's chin and tilting his head up. 

"After all of the above, last weekend you allowed Tyelko and Curvo to tie you to your grandfather's bed. When Tyelko, of all people, tried to say the ropes were not tied right and were unsafe, you waited until he left the room to keep your grandfather out, and you and Curvo continued." Fëanor kept his eyes meeting Finrod's as he spoke. "You almost died because the ropes tangled and choked you. If Atar had not needed his crown and forced Tyelko to let him in-"

"I apologized to them," Finrod said. 

"As you should have. Curvo is doing so today," Fëanor replied. "But that still leaves our main problem."

"If I promise to listen if Tyelko says the ropes are unsafe, may I leave?" Finrod asked with a hopeful grin. 

"No." Fëanor's mouth twisted. "We are going to discuss why your ideas about sex are getting increasingly more dangerous, before either you or one of your partners end up in the Halls."

"That won't happen!" Finrod's face turned redder. 

"I suppose it is possible that multiple partners could die, or that you and any number of them do so," Fëanor admitted, ignoring his nephew's protests that he had not meant it that way. "I shall not be any more pleased to have to arrange a joint funeral with Nolofinwë and your father than if I have to arrange it for just one of my sons, or if I have to attend yours or Findekáno's."

"No one is going to die," Finrod said, standing to leave.

Fëanor caught him before he reached the door. "No one is going to die because we are going to discuss this."

Finrod tried to break free, wiggling in his uncle's grip. Fëanor merely tightened his hold, until he could throw Finrod over his shoulder.

Then he moved back to the desk, taking a seat.

"Uncle!" Finrod twisted in the hold. 

Fëanor merely moved Finrod to sit in his lap, facing him. "If you cannot be trusted to remain here on your own, I will make you do so."

"You can't," Finrod said. 

"Would you prefer to have this discussion with my father or yours, instead?" Fëanor asked, hands around Finrod's waist. 

Finrod went quiet and still. 

"Ingoldo, things cannot continue this way. I have had this conversation with my sons and Findekano as well. They know better." Fëanor's voice was soothing and quiet, a sharp contrast with the strong hold he kept Finrod in. "If you feel that you must do such things for them-"

"I don't," Finrod interrupted. "I'm the one asking them for it."

Fëanor nodded. "Then we can discuss why you wish for such things, and find a better way to fulfill them."

"I thought you wanted me to stop?" Finrod said. 

"I wish you to stop endangering yourself or others pointlessly." Fëanor's lips twitched. "You're the grandson of Olwë as well. I know the Teleri use ropes on their ships, you should know some knots are safer than others."

"But I want-" Finrod stopped, blushing. 

Fëanor looked at him. "You want to be overpowered. You crave a feeling of danger, in whatever form."

"Yes," Finrod said, biting his lip. 

"And you can have that without the risk of permanent harm." Fëanor let his gaze drop lower before he looked back at Finrod's face. "You grew half-aroused when I lifted you by the door. You've remained so throughout this conversation."

"It's not enough." Finrod shifted, trying to distract his uncle. 

"There are ways to change that." Fëanor smiled sharply, eyes glinting.

"Then do so." Finrod glared at his uncle.

"Before I do, I want your agreement. You shall tell me if I push you too far, and you will listen if I tell you something is too dangerous." Feanor paused. 

Finrod nodded as time stretched on, Fëanor's grip not allowing him any friction as he shifted. 

"You must speak, Ingoldo," Fëanor said. 

"Fine," Finrod muttered. "I will listen."

"And you shall speak if I push you too far?" Fëanor looked at him. 

Finrod laughed. "As though you would after this talk."

"Arguments will not get you want you want in this," Fëanor said. "And if you think good intentions are enough to prevent harm, you have not learned half of what you should about life, let alone sex."

Finrod sighed, but nodded. "Yes, Uncle. I shall tell you if you push too hard. Now, will you push at all?"

"Soon, little bird. You wished to feel powerless, did you not?" Fëanor stood suddenly, Finrod's legs dangling in the air as he was placed back over his uncle's shoulder. 

"Is this the best you-" Finrod cut off, moaning, as Fëanor placed a hand on Finrod's ass and squeezed, before pulling his leggings down to his ankles. 

"You realize, I hope, that this angle gives me perfect access to you? I could spank you every time you make a comment. You could try to kick me, I suppose, but your punishment will be worse."

Finrod moaned before kicking his legs out, weakly connecting with Fëanor's thigh. 

Fëanor laughed. "One would think any Noldo would know to not play with fire. But not you, Ingoldo." His hand rose quickly, a series of smacks raining down on Finrod's buttocks and upper thighs. 

Finrod moaned as they hit, not even noticing as they walked through the halls. It was only when the smacks stopped that he noticed. "Uncle?"

Fëanor did not answer, but pushed open the door to his bedroom. Walking quickly towards the bed, he sat Finrod down on it, pushing him backwards before climbing on the bed and looming over him.

Black hair fell around their faces like a curtain. Finrod tried to move, only for Fëanor to grab his wrists and pin them above his head. 

"Now, I believe it is time to show you how to do such things without such a risk to yourself." Fëanor shifted his grip so that he held Finrod's wrists in one hand, reaching with the other to knock one pillow off the bed. 

Finrod tried to look over, but he saw only a flash of light off metal before something closed around his wrists. 

He felt his Uncle checking the tightness, before extending his arms upwards, attaching his wrists to something else. 

"Uncle-"

"Be a good boy, nephew," Fëanor said, shifting down to Finrod's ankles and removing his leggings before attaching cuffs there as well. "You did this with Curvo, did you not? Except for all my son's skills in the forge, he never did pay attention to the knot-tying lessons like Tyelko."

"Curvo's felt more dangerous." Finrod tossed his head to the side, looking around the room. 

"I suspect they did, to one only focused on the possibilities if things go wrong." Fëanor smiled. "But these are more dangerous when used right."

With that, Fëanor pulled a cord hanging off the bottom of the bed. The cuffs holding Finrod's ankles were pulled apart, until his legs were forced open, spread to opposite sides of the bed. 

Finrod's cock jerked at the movement, causing Fëanor to laugh. "You are not as unaffected as your claims would lead one to believe."

"Perhaps," Finrod said. "Or perhaps you simply believe me more aroused than I am."

Fëanor ran a finger up Finrod's cock, watching it spurt precum on Finrod's stomach. Finrod gasped. "I think I know enough of how aroused you are."

Reaching over, he picked up the metal object Finrod had seen earlier. It was another ring, though this one looked better made.

"I forged it myself. It's somewhat adjustable, though after your exhibitionist streak, I likely did not need to make it so to forge something that would fit you." Fëanor looked between Finrod's cock and the ring contemplatively. "Yes, it will fit."

"Why?" Finrod jerked his hips upwards at the touch of cold metal. 

"I intend to show you how to do such things safely." Fëanor sat on his legs, pinning him to the bed. "I do not wish you to come before I am finished."

Finrod's cock continued to jerk as Fëanor placed the ring on it, Finrod gasping and involuntarily moving his hips, seeking more. 

When it was finally on, Fëanor ran a hand down Finrod's ass, cupping his buttocks before rubbing Finrod's balls. 

Finrod jerked upwards again with a short scream, as the ring prevented him from coming. 

Fëanor slowed his movements but did not stop until Finrod had calmed back down. "Tell me, Ingoldo, do you intend to lie to me again about how unaffected you are? I could keep you here like this, bringing you to an edge you cannot fall from, until you are naught but a wordless mess if I wish."

"I did not," Finrod said, cutting off with a moan and closing his eyes as Fëanor raised his hand to stroke Finrod's cock briefly. Finrod fought back from that edge, forcing his eyes open. "I did not lie."

"And yet, you are here on my bed, bond, ready to come the second I release you. And we haven't even removed all your clothes yet," Fëanor's voice took on a teasing edge, as he moved to rub Finrod's nipples through his shirt. 

"You should have fixed that before you bound me, if it bothers you." Finrod pressed up against the hands as he spoke, pulling the bonds to their furthest extent. 

"I can still remove it from you like this." Fëanor picked up a knife from the pile that had held the cuffs and ring.

"My shirt-" Finrod stared at the knife. 

"I will buy you a new one." Fëanor looked at him. "And you may wear one of mine when you leave in the morning. But if you do not wish-"

"Do it," Finrod said, eyes fixed on the knife. 

Fëanor nodded. "Good boy. Now, hold still."

Finrod tensed, breath shallow as Fëanor picked up the knife, holding it near the bottom of the shirt and making a small tear in the fabric. 

Slowly he moved it upwards, Finrod's breathing shallow the entire time, until he reached Finrod's throat. There he paused, looking at Finrod's face.

Finrod continued to breathe, feeling the knife against his throat as it moved. Finally, Fëanor sliced the rest of the shirt, leaving Finrod's chest exposed as the ruined shirt hung from his arms. 

As soon as the knife was placed on the bedside table, Finrod let out a whine, bucking up. 

"Hush," Fëanor said, pressing down on him. Finrod shuddered at the feel of Fëanor's velvet robes against his bare chest. 

"Calm," Fëanor said. "You were very good while I cut your shirt off, even though I could tell you were desperate. You liked that, didn't you? The feeling of the knife against your throat, knowing that one small move could harm you. But you stayed still, so it would not."

Finrod whined again. "Please."

"What do you need?" Fëanor ran a hand over Finrod's jaw and lips. "You must tell me."

Finrod gasped, trying to form thoughts. "Please- your clothes- take them off. Then let me- I want- let me feel you."

Fëanor pushed himself up. Finrod moaned. "It will be well, Ingoldo, I am merely doing as you ask."

Finrod blushed, nodding, eyes hooded as he watched his uncle stand. Fëanor pulled his robes off, revealing that he wore nothing underneath. 

"You do not wear underwear?" Finrod asked, eyeing Fëanor's cock, which stood proudly against his stomach. 

"They get in the way of my pleasure on days like this." Fëanor ran a hand over his own cock, watching Finrod's face. "You like this, do you not? Or do you wish you could touch me?"

Finrod gasped, squirming in his binds, seeking friction, as Fëanor moved to find something. 

"What are you doing?" Finrod cried out, yanking at the bonds and rattling the bed. 

Fëanor looked at him. "Looking for the oil."

"Please, I don't need it-"

"Who said it was for your benefit, Ingoldo?" Fëanor said, after he had picked up a bottle of oil from the bedside table and was warming it in his hands. 

"Please. I will not come until you let me, just take me. You don't need to warm the oil." Finrod yanked at the cuffs again. 

"I know you will not come until I let you. I am not removing the ring from your cock until I am satisfied." Fëanor poured some oil into his hands. "And I am not going to take you, Ingoldo."

Finrod watched, wide eyed and panting, as Fëanor reached to toy with his own entrance. A smirk appeared on his face at Finrod's expression. 

"Let this be a lesson in the dangers of assuming," Fëanor said as he slicked Finrod's cock with oil as well. 

"And a lesson in how to ride a cock?" Finrod panted out, trying to cling to rational thought. 

"Yes." Fëanor climbed back on the bed, straddling Finrod's hips. "The previous efforts I have seen you make at such were disappointing."

"How much did you-" Finrod moaned as Fëanor pushed down on his cock. 

"I have seen more of you than I have seen of any save my lovers," Fëanor said. "Shift your hips up."

Finrod did so, watching as his uncle moaned and threw his head back. 

"Good boy," Fëanor panted. Finrod thought, in the small portion of his mind not consumed with sensation, that Fëanor looked more aroused now than he had at any point prior. "I should modify the-"

He cut off as Finrod, giving in to his need, bucked as far up as he could, arching his back. 

Fëanor gasped, eyes wide, and pushed back down. Without speaking again, he set a quick pace, rising and sinking on Finrod's cock. 

Finrod remained with his back arched, seeking all the friction he could. His own cock felt tight and heavy as he was kept from coming. 

Fëanor continued to gasp and moan as he rode Finrod, until with a final gasp he came, come splattering across their chests before he collapsed on to Finrod's chest, breathing heavily. 

Finrod moaned at the weight, continuing to buck his hips. 

Fëanor remained still for a few moments, enjoying the sensation and feeling Finrod thrust desperately as he was kept from coming. 

Finally, when Finrod's thrusts were little more than wild jerks, Fëanor muttered something. 

The ring relaxed around Finrod's cock. 

Finrod came with a scream, come spilling inside his uncle, pressing against him. Fëanor continued to ride him, until Finrod's cock softened. 

Then he pulled himself off, crawling to undo the cuffs. Finally he removed the cock ring, now slick with come and oil, from Finrod.

"I've never heard of one doing that before," Finrod said, when he had regained his wits. 

Fëanor grinned, pleasure still on his face, as he pulled Finrod up towards the pillows. "I did say it was my own design. Still, I see some adjustments I will need to make."

Finrod laughed as he was placed back down, though freed of restraints this time. "Only you would think that wasn't good enough."

"It can be improved. But tell me, are you convinced that you need not seek idiotic stunts for your pleasure, Ingoldo?" Fëanor asked, watching him slump against the pillows. 

Finrod grinned tiredly. "Perhaps, but I will likely need more lessons. It's so hard to break one's habits, after all."

Fëanor reclined next to him. "That can be arranged, though I'm not sure you know what you ask for."

"I do," Finrod said. 

"Very well," Fëanor agreed. "Take a nap. We shall see how much you know later."


End file.
